


About Bullies And Brothers

by Mycroffed



Series: I love you, brother dear [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Holmes Brothers' Childhood, Part two of a trilogy, kid!Sherlock, teen!Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7660072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mycroffed/pseuds/Mycroffed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer is Mycroft's favourite season.</p>
<p>This time, when he gets home, Sherlock is nowhere to be found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About Bullies And Brothers

Summer was Mycroft's favourite season. That hadn't changed over the last couple of years, but everything else had. He had grown up and was now going to University - at Oxford, which meant that he needed to put even more time and effort in his studies. Not that he minded or anything, he loved what he did, but others, like Sherlock, didn't quite like it as much as he did. (It was his last year as well, which meant that he needed to be on the lookout for a job as well, though he had had offers from both MI5 and MI6.)

 

   When he /finally/ got home again from Oxford, he put his luggage in his room, as he had done all the other years before, and turned around, expecting to see Sherlock standing there, bouncing and dressed up in a new costume, asking him to come play. But he was completely alone. He walked downstairs again, asking Mummy where his little brother was.

 

   "I think your brother is out playing, Mycroft dear." She said, smiling softly before ruffling his hair -- by then, Mycroft was twenty and he had to admit, he didn't like it when his mother still acted as if he was a ten year old. "Why don't you go out and go look for him?"

 

   Mycroft raised an eyebrow at that, but he walked out of the house anyway, going into the garden as he shouted his brother's name. He had noticed that Sherlock had gotten more and more distant as he got older, almost as if he had started to get bored with his brother, mostly because he was never at home. But Sherlock didn't react to him - or he simply didn't hear him, that was an option as well - so Mycroft simply continued to walk, keeping his eyes open for his brother.

 

   Eventually, Mycroft heard some shouting in the distance - though none of the voices belonged to Sherlock - and he rushed towards it, hoping that they would be able to tell him where his brother was. But once he arrived there, he spotted a group of people standing around his brother, who had some scratches on his arms and legs and a black eye.

 

   "Hello, Sherlock." He said, smiling warmly at his brother. "I'm home again."

 

   The men standing around Sherlock looked a bit unsure at the new man who had arrived. They were clearly waiting for the younger Holmes to tell them who this man was and if they could beat him up as well - it was clear to Mycroft what had happened. They were after his brother for some reason - he suspected that Sherlock had insulted them for some ridiculous reason - and now wondered if they would have to take care of Mycroft as well.

 

   Eventually, Sherlock opened his mouth to greet his brother as well. "Hello Mycroft. Finally back from Oxford?"

 

   "As you can see." Mycroft's smile hadn't disappeared, not yet, but he had started to focus his glare at the men who were still debating what to do. "You know, if you really want to beat me up, you should probably get to it. But leave my brother out of this."

 

   The leader of the little gang - he couldn't be much older than sixteen, but with his tattoos and his piercings, he must have thought that he looked so cool - stepped in Mycroft's direction, obviously trying to look threatening. But the older Holmes just raised an eyebrow at him and let him try. He was ready to take him on if necessary. He knew how to defend himself.

 

   "Ya should leave yer brother alone." The boy said in a heavy accent. "He's got a problem with us, not with ye."

 

   "Well, to be completely honest, he does have a problem with me, from time to time, but I certainly don't have a problem with you guys. You know, apart from the fact that you beat up my baby brother-"

 

   He was interrupted by said baby brother, who grumbled that he could take care of himself, though he was covered in bruises and cuts and he did not convince Mycroft in any way.

 

   So he just went on as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't been interrupted by the other. "You beat up my baby brother and now you expect me to just let you get away with it?"

 

   "So what are ye goin' to do 'bout it? Are ye goin' to beat us up in return?" The boy stepped closer, slowly raising his firsts and challenging Mycroft for a fight, convinced that the man would have no idea how to fight, but well, they were pretty wrong.

 

   Mycroft shifted until he was standing between Sherlock and the gang, playing with his umbrella for a moment as he waited for the boy to actually /attack/.

 

   He pretended to be not quite ready when the boy jumped towards him, though he had seen him coming from far away. He blocked the first that was aimed at his face with a lot of ease - it was almost too easy, he was used to fighting with people who were so much more subtle when they attacked - and aimed a hit of his own in the boy's gut.

 

   Bull's eye.

 

   The rest of the gang rushed forwards, but the leader held up a hand and stopped them immediately, wanting to take him down on his own. Mycroft smirked at him - if the boy wanted more, then he could get it. He was probably not even going to get his suit dirty.

 

   "Ye're askin' fer it." The boy growled before he ran straight towards Mycroft, planning in tackling him and pinning him to the ground. The older Holmes brother stepped aside at the last possible moment, so that the boy fell to the ground. Mycroft placed his foot on his back, pinning him to the ground, like the other had planned to do with him. With anyone else, with someone who was /older/ than this sixteen year old, he would have started kicking him, but not this time. He wasn't a complete asshole.

 

   "If I ever hear that you came /close/ to my brother again, I swear that I will find you and you'll get away with less than just a small bruise on your stomach, boy. Consider this a warning." He moved his foot away from the boy's back, who immediately got on his feet again, glanced at Sherlock and then made a run for it, immediately followed by the rest of the gang.

 

   With a smug look, he watched them run until he turned around towards Sherlock. His younger brother had curled up around himself, refusing to look at his brother, almost as if he was scared of him. Mycroft's facial expression immediately softened as he rushed over to the twelve year old, kneeling in front of him.

 

   "Sherlock, are you okay?" He asked, his voice filled with worry. "You're not in too much pain, are you?"

 

   The boy shook his head but refused to actually say something, which wasn't something that actually helped the other to feel at ease.

 

   "Alright, I'm taking you back home where Father can treat those wounds and get you an ice pack." Without even waiting for a response from Sherlock, he picked him up and carried him all the way back to the house. While on their way over, Sherlock rested his forehead against Mycroft's back and he grew very quiet.

 

   Their mother was waiting in the doorway - she must have seen it all from where she stood - and looked worried. She immediately rushed over to Mycroft and carefully lifted her youngest boy off his back. "What happened, Mycroft?"

 

   "Some group of guys were teaming up on him. I got him out." Mycroft said, his eyes never leaving Sherlock - who still had to say a word since the fight had ended. "I gave them a warning and made sure they knew that they better not mess with Sherlie again."

 

   "Sherlock." The two adults immediately looked at Sherlock as he said those words. "Call me Sherlock, not Sherlie. I'm not a baby anymore. And now I'm going to bed."

 

   Protests came from both their mother and Mycroft himself, but Sherlock ignored all of them and just got up to walk over to his bedroom. Mycroft trailed behind him, with a little bit of distance between the two of them so that the younger brother wouldn't notice him coming over. He waited outside the door until he had heard the young boy crawl into his bed.

 

   He waited a few more minutes before he snuck into the room and sat down in the chair that he always used to sit down in when Sherlock was younger. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment just to listen to the sounds the young boy was making. At least he was safe. At least he wouldn't be bothered anymore by these boys.

 

   If only Sherlock realised just how much his brother loved him. If only.


End file.
